


Keep the Streets Empty For Me

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik comes around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep the Streets Empty For Me

Erik likes to stride down the hallways of Charles' home like he owns the place. Helmet tucked under his arm, cape billowing behind him. Children scatter, then peek out curiously from behind doorways. For his part, Erik just grins mirthlessly at them when he’s not ignoring their presence. Charles tells him, _Don't scare the children, Erik_ , but Erik ignores him too. It's not always fear in their eyes, and they don't always stay with Charles.

A girl no more than seventeen blocks his path, hands filled with flames that don't burn as hot as the rage in her eyes. Erik prepares himself, but only says softly, "Child, your mother should have taught you not to." She only stares blankly at him, then falls silently to the floor. _This is what you get for showing off._ Reproachful, as usual. _I'll thank you later_ , Erik replies, only breaking his stride to carefully avoid the still form of the girl, in case Charles decides to wake her up again.

*

The first night, Erik put the helmet, gleaming and red, next to the bed. Unbuttoned his coat.

"In case you hadn't noticed," Charles said, waving at his legs. Broken, but somehow not bitter. Not just yet, anyway. Naked, Erik on his knees and his hand on Charles' cock, Charles managed to look slightly surprised when it reacted exactly the way it always had. "I can't, though -" he cut himself off, anger seeping through. "I can't fee-"

 _Are you asking me for permission, Charles. Is that what you do now?_

 _I always respected the sanctity of your mind._ Affronted, and if Erik didn't know Charles always believed in the truth of his own words, he might have laughed. But then, all he said was, "Just tell me to fuck you, Charles. Tell me how you need me to fuck you."

*

He blows up a testing facility in Madrid and Charles recruits more mutants to his school of ineffectual pacifism - Emma tells them he has a well practiced speech about how all mutants aren't the same, how some believe in peaceful cohabitation. He rescues a mutant from a steel-reinforced prison cell and Charles gives lectures to his students, talks about the future, and mankind, and forgiveness. Seemingly content to ignore how most of the news that comes out is still about how dangerous they all are. Erik collects all the newspaper articles on the wall opposite his bed, an ever growing collage of panicked headlines. But there's never a single word on Charles Xavier, and Erik thinks maybe Charles isn't so guileless after all. Erik met Moira once, while destroying what was left of the CIA files on them, and she had no recollection of Erik at all. Erik wonders who else Charles has made forget while still claiming to walk on the side of humanity.

Raven says, hands crossed behind her back as she scans the words, "I'd say this is kind of obsessive, Erik. And maybe creepy. But if it helps you sleep at night."

"Go away, Raven."

But sometimes he forgets how much Raven's not a child anymore, and when she spins around to him her eyes are brittle, angry. "Sometimes," she says slowly, "I don't know which of us is more pathetic."

*

Months pass, sometimes. He doesn't think of Charles at all.

*

Raven used to miss Charles, in the beginning, when it was difficult and Erik didn't have so much of a plan as he had a vaguely formulated idea of how the world would work When He Ruled It, and mostly they spent a lot of their time in broken-down places just waiting for the next moment they had to run. She'd cry herself to sleep, and Erik cloistered himself behind the helmet and pretended he didn't hear her, pretended he didn't understand any of her loss.

"She'd be a lot less whiny if you'd just let me -" Emma said once, eyes bright.

"I will snap your neck like a twig," Erik replied distractedly, even though, most of the time, he even liked Emma. Quite a bit, in fact. But she slept with him because it was convenient, and because she knew it worked as a weapon. Erik never could see her endgame, and that kept him wary enough.

"Shaw was far more fun than you are," she said, as if he tired her, and he was so distracted by Raven he just waved her away.

Raven, curled up on his bed in a bathrobe two sizes two big. "Maybe if we did it we'd miss him less."

"I'm certain that's not how it works, Raven."

Raven sighed dramatically. "I guess no-one's going to ever take my virginity then," she said, and Erik had to laugh.

"I told you, in a few years, perhaps." But he liked her too much and he didn't hate Charles quite enough, even long after it stopped being entirely about Charles and him.

*

Some nights, when they're thousands of miles apart, Erik takes off the helmet and stands by the window, goes, _Charles_. Always, somehow, expecting an answer. Mostly he gets one, even if it's a distracted, _I'm busy_ , and Erik feels a burst of satisfaction that Charles eventually comes around, doesn't say no.

*

He tells Raven, "You can contact him if you'd like to. Write him a letter, maybe."

Raven laughs, genuine amusement. "I hardly think I need your permission to write him a letter." The smile fades, soon enough. "What should I say though? Dear Charles, I miss you terribly sometimes. Dear Charles, do you think I made the right decision in leaving you? Dear Charles, Erik won't touch me, just like you always refused to, but I’m used to that." Her voice gets softer, quiet. "Dear Charles, I watched a man die today. It didn't affect me as much as I thought it would."

"Did you think it would be different?"

"No. I guess I thought it would be exactly like it is."

Erik owes Charles this, and he's not a man that breaks his promises. Except of course, Charles' idea of taking care of someone differs markedly from Erik's.

*

Erik tells Charles, after, when Charles is uncharacteristcally silent, "If they truly knew for a second, the breadth of what you can do -"

Charles' smile is small, implacable. "But I wouldn't. That's the difference between the two of us."

"Oh, Charles," Erik replies, and he feels his jaw harden and metal starts calling for a response. He pushes away the covers, stands to gather his things, because this is when it's always best to leave. Charles doesn't look at him, just balls his fists tightly, stubborn as usual. This time though, Erik pauses at the doorway and says without looking back, "I won't be here, when they finally come for you. But they will come. As surely as I stand here."

 _You're wrong,_ right as he's putting the helmet back on. Erik presses it firmly over his head, cuts off any other words.

*

Months pass, sometimes. He sends a chess move by mail, gets one back in return.

*

He stalks into the mansion, red trailing his footsteps and copper under his tongue. Mission gone wrong, and when he wipes away sweat from his face it comes off red. Charles pales when he storms the room and chases away a silver-haired girl who, to her credit, only leaves when Charles nods his head rather than at Erik's snarl. He must look a monster, through Charles' eyes, blood-mist and gore, but Charles only grips the controls of his chair, silent as Erik rips the helmet off his head and allows it to fall to the floor.

"Well," Erik finally says. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"Just preparing the speech I'll have to make tomorrow, surely."

"You're a pompous ass, Charles. I'm certain it'll come naturally."

"Ah, and this is to be your seduction technique for the night, I take it."

"No, that was accidental. I believe I would rather have a hot bath, now."

*

He doesn't talk about Raven. Unspoken rules. No Raven, no _tell me how you plan to fuck up my life next, Erik, because it can't possibly not be about me, do you want to know how that bullet felt, shattering my spine._ Erik would tell him if he'd asked, though: Raven is better. Stronger. Barely flinched when I shot that guard that was aiming for her head. Didn't wipe the blood off her face. Good girl. A soldier, soon enough.

In the kitchen of the house they share; a lair when he wants to indulge himself: beautiful and fierce and cutting off slivers of leftover rack of lamb with careful precision. Not reacting when Erik says, "We need someone to be the Secretary of Defence. It's vital."

"Maybe you should have thought twice before you killed him then, huh?" She puts the knife down, pushes at the handle aimlessly with her forefinger until it starts to spin. "When."

"Tomorrow. That's my girl." He leans to kiss her on the temple, smooth her red hair back. Reconsiders, in the end. "We do what's necessary, Raven."

"You should call me Mystique."

*

Checkmate.

*

"You know everything about me." It's far too late, and Erik feels old. Possibly he is. They're both clothed, not touching, which makes Erik's skin vaguely itch.

"Did, once. That's no longer true."

"No, you always do."

Charles' smile is slow. "I guess I'm just an optimist then."

"Or a fool."

"Or that." Charles brushes imaginary lint off of his legs, and Erik can’t help but lift his hand to cup the line of his cheek. He only stills, then exhales.

"We go in circles, Charles. I'm getting tired."

 _Then leave. You did it once already._

And Erik thinks, _I never came back._


End file.
